I'm in the Orlando area this weekend. I've spent a delightful few days surrounded by and laughing with loved ones and am now soaking in a few hours completely to myself in my favorite coffee shop in Kissimmee. Spending the afternoon in the town where I lived for the majority of my married life is a bittersweet feeling. So much has changed that I barely recognize the street corners. At the same time, no amount of real estate development can strip the landmarks etched into my memory of the life I lived here. While stopped at a light in front of Old Town, I felt an unfamiliar twinge in my heart. I know that place well because for a few years it was the source of one of my few joys. In the darkest days of my marriage I would drive out to Old Town, buy some tickets, and ride the Scrambler. As I was thrown from side to side in the carriage, lights strobing around my eyes, I would laugh. No matter how crappy I felt inside, I could laugh sitting there. So I would ride as much as possib...